


In Through the Out Door

by mokuyoubi



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Explosions, First Time, Krampus his 12 skrakks and the baby Jesus, M/M, Roland has more limbs than the Destroyer, Tiny Tina throws the dopest parties, all of the Prince references, maybe crack?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:51:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokuyoubi/pseuds/mokuyoubi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tiny Tina gathers the vault hunters old and new to celebrate a Pandoran Christmas.  Mordecai can think of better things for him and Roland to do than moon over their exes.  Mostly killing things, but if it ends in orgasms, he isn't going to complain.  Takes place after Bright Lights, Flying City and before Wildlife Preservation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Through the Out Door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1shinymess (magpie4shinies)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie4shinies/gifts).



Tina's party wasn't exactly Mordecai's idea of a good time. Sure, you get that many vault hunters together in one place, you were guaranteed a wild affair. Mordecai was all about that. What he wasn't all about was that someone had decided to invite Moxxi and her myriad ex-lovers. At least Tina wasn't crazy enough to include Handsome Jack on the guest list, and Motor Mama was apparently too busy cannibalising her own offspring or some shit. But Marcus and Michael were casting longing looks at her over the punch bowl, while she traded barbs with Zed.

What the fuck ever, man. Mordecai took a long pull from his drink and cringed as it went down. Tina's home-brew burned going down, but was almost as good as his, and twice as potent, mostly because she had no quality control. Given enough time, it'd probably liquefy his guts, but what the hell? It was a special occasion, right? Moxxi's laughter rang through the cavernous bunker in response to something Axton had said. Mordecai took another hit before turning his attention back to his scope.

Technically, Mordecai wasn't here to be the bouncer. Tina's various mines and devices would probably take care of any potential interlopers from across the way, but playing guard gave him an excuse to simultaneously stay as far away from the festivities as possible while also getting drunk off his ass. A few dozen shots of some high shelf liquor, or the foulest Hodunk swill, and all those blurred lights came into focus, all the swirling, wavy lines became crisp and straight. 

Right now he had a perfect head-shot lined up and was weighing the intense feeling of satisfaction he would get from pulling the trigger against the inevitable flood of inbred maniacs that would come running their way in the name of vengeance. Every time Moxxi's dulcet tones reached him, his finger tightened a little more. _Heh, why not?_ He thought, shrugging one shoulder. What party with a bunch of vault hunters would be complete without some mindless bloodshed?

“Hey, Mordy,” Roland said, coming up behind him and punching him on the shoulder. It was a move that used to send him stumbling and had more than once led to the two of them beating the shit out of each other while Brick laughed and Lilith kept up scathing running commentary. After all this time, Mordecai had a sort of sixth sense when it came to his old partner, managed to brace himself the split second before contact. He barely swayed, and Roland laughed in approval.

“What're you doing skulking over here? You're missing Tina's awesome retelling of the meaning of Christmas.”

Mordecai glanced in her direction. Around a makeshift Christmas tree fire, she was gesturing grandly, talking about the 12 Skrakk pulling Krampus' sleigh, raining bombs or purses full of coins down indiscriminately on bandits and innocents alike. 

“His gotsa a spiffy red pimp suit, made of velvet 'cause it's gotta be soft where he carries the baby Jesus on his back. He carries around this cane to beat off all the hookers 'cause they like he so fiiiiiiinnne, and this gun called Mistletoe that shoots wine and makes all the grown-ups get stupid lovey-dovey. Then once they're off making with the babies, Krampus goes in all the houses with the red x's on the door and steals all the first born sons. Oh, and girl's got some fine ass horns, which he uses to roast them babies, of course. And he also plays the bass. Like a mother fucker.”

Zer0 was nodding thoughtfully, and Gaige was staring in a sort of dumbfounded horror, jaw dropped open. 

“Sounds like good time,” Krieg said. He and Salvador shared an impressed expression at this Krampus fellow.

“Tina,” Lilith said, in that despairing tone she had that was usually reserved for moments exactly like this one. “That's not how it goes.”

“Sure it is, shawty,” Tina said cheerfully. “That's why the Christmas tree.” She poked the tree, sending a shower of golden sparks towards the ceiling.

“But why burn it? And why did you decorate it, first?” Maya wondered. She arched a dubious brow. “Seems sort of wasteful.”

“We have to burn the Christmas tree in effigy, duuuuuh! Why the hell else you keepin' a fully live tree inside your house, sucka punk?” Tina demanded. “Youse gotsa make it all purty, then destroy it, to soothe the savage beast.”

Mordecai snorted in amusement as Lilith threw her hands in the air and went in search of more booze. He actually turned his head to really look at Roland and snorted again. “Dude, are you wearing a pink beret?”

Roland patted at his head like he wasn't sure for a second, then nodded. “Oh. Yeah. It's raspberry. Tina gave it to me for Christmas, said she found it at Old Man Johnson's farm.”

“Hate to break it to you, Amigo, but that is pink as shit.” Roland's cheek twitched in annoyance, and Mordecai just laughed. “Don't worry, you can totally pull it off.”

“No one says shit to Zer0 when he comes in dressed like that,” Roland said, gesturing over by the fireplace. Zer0 was sprawled out on the floor, propped up on his hands, long legs stretched out in front, suit various shades of pink with a pandacorn across the chest.

“That's because Zer0 is badass enough to _actually_ pull it off,” Mordecai said. “Besides, I'm still not entirely convinced he's got a dick under there. Gonna take off his mask one day and bam, hot chick.”

“You're so strange,” Roland said, like it was the first time it'd ever occurred to him, though he said it often enough. “Anyway, this hat's awesome, biatch.”

“You're only saying that 'cause you're scared what Tiny Tina'd do if she heard you sayin' otherwise,” Mordecai said.

“Well. Yeah,” Roland admitted. “And Lilith said it complimented my complexion.” 

“Aw, shit, are you two doing that dance again?” Mordecai asked. Roland answered the question with his furtive, sidelong look at Lilith, and Mordecai made a sound of disgust. “When are you two gonna ever learn?” 

Roland rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I could ask the same about you and Miss Moxxi. Don't think I didn't notice you were about to bring down a rain of nomads and Goliaths on us just because you don't like seeing her flirt with other people.”

“Man, I don't know what you're talking about,” Mordecai said, sour. “She flirts whenever she opens her damn mouth. If I picked a fight every time that happened, we could all go home already; everyone on the planet'd be dead.”

“Anyway, I don't think she wants...I mean, I don't think we're gonna...you know? That's all just the past now.” Given the opportunity, Roland could probably keep babbling on like this for the rest of the night. He had a way with words, except when it came to a particular red-headed Siren.

“You're saying them new vault hunters just fabricated those 'do you like me check yes or no' love ECHOs between the two of you?” Mordecai asked.

Roland flushed bright red. “I _thought_ Lilith paid them to destroy those.”

“Yeah,” Mordecai agreed. “But I paid 'em more not to.” He flashed Roland a sunny grin. Somehow, teasing Roland could make him forget all about Moxxi's stupid smile and stupidly hot body poured into her little elf costume. “I didn't know you were the skirt in the relationship.”

“Anyone screwing around with Lilith is the skirt,” Roland said with a sigh. “Anyway, if you heard those, you know. It just didn't work out man. We both got our own shit to worry about right now.”

It wasn't like Mordecai wanted to encourage that particular relationship. He loved 'em both, but the truth was, you put 'em together and you got a hot mess. Not that he really had room to speak, given how spectacularly his past flings had ended. Still, he hated seeing Roland look so defeated. “You know,” he said, raising his voice so the others could hear, “someone had probably better go up top to keep a lookout for Krampus. In case he decides to pay us a visit.”

“Good thinking, Mordy,” Tina said. “Last thing I needs is any of you losers gettin' shot by Mistletoe and sucking face at my pah-tee. That is not the proper etiquette!”

“Me and Roland'll take the first shift,” Mordecai volunteered.

“But you ladies hasn't had any of my special Yule crumpets yet!” Tina cried. 

Mordecai fought the urge to roll his eyes. Girl could pack a mean punch. Roland covered his smile by faking a cough. “Then you better save us some for when we get back,” he said.

No one else seemed to have any objection to them leaving. Roland waited until they'd scrambled up the rock face to the south of Tina's place before asking, “So what's our real reason for coming up here.”

“You know, any other goddamn place in the entire universe, I hear a story like that and I'm all 'pft,' but fucking Pandora, man.” Mordecai paused to catch his breath before leading the way to his hidden staircase, picking through the rocks and debris from one of Tina's explosions. “I seen guns like that before.”

Roland gave him an incredulous look. “That make people get _all lovey-dovey?_ ”

“That get you drunk as _shit_ with the pull of a trigger,” Mordecai corrected. “And I don't think I need to remind you of that one party in New Haven when you decided doing shots with Helen Pierce was a good idea, to make the point that drunk you pretty much equals amorous you.”

“That woman could really hold her liquor,” Roland said, a look of fond admiration on his face. “And I've already apologised for that about fifty million times.”

Mordecai touched his neck at the sense-memory, like he had for days afterwards, fingering the hickey Roland had left on his neck. It had been kind of obnoxious at the time, Roland all but passed out and refusing to go to his own bed, and somehow it was like he had more limbs than the damn Destroyer, and he was drooling all over the place. His biting and sucking had been more eager than skilful. Eventually Mordecai had just given in and let Roland nuzzle himself to sleep, and when he told Lilith, she'd been amused instead of angry, and laughed every time she'd seen the mark on Mordecai's neck, which had just sort of made Mordecai irrationally pissy at the time. Actually, it still pissed him off now, for no good reason.

“Hey,” Roland hissed, all of the sudden, and jerked Mordecai down low to the ground. He'd been so lost in those stupid thoughts he hadn't even noticed the bandit strolling along the roof of the Varkid Observatory, gun held casually to his chest. There were a couple psychos, too, now he could hear them, their high-pitched voices and echoing giggles.

“Like fucking roaches,” Mordecai said, lips pulling back in disgust. “Can kill 'em all day long, and more keep popping up.”

“Hey now,” Roland said. “That ain't fair to the roaches.” Mordecai had to roll his eyes, but he chuckled a little. “What d'ya think? There's gotta be more inside. Those damn shock nomads feed off the force field in there. We could go get the others.”

“Nah, we can take 'em,” Mordecai said, and unslung his rifle from his back. “Can't let these new guys have all the fun.”

“I didn't dress for a fight,” Roland protested. Mordecai had noticed. He wasn't the only one who'd abandoned his armour for the festivities, but Mordecai expected a little better from the leader of the Crimson Raiders. Roland in a sweater and cargo pants was sort of ridiculous, but at least he'd brought his weapons.

“Man, don't be a pussy,” Mordecai said. 

“You better not let Lilith and Maya hear you say that shit,” Roland said.

“I wasn't talkin' about them,” Mordecai snarled back, and without waiting for an answer he was on the move, crouching low to the ground as he crept along. He heard Roland let out a sigh, and took that as him giving in to the inevitable.

Mordecai's favourite sniping position for the Observatory was this little cranny in the side of his tower. He'd taken to wearing rust and clay colours and he blended right in. Through his scope, he saw Roland sneaking closer. He settled in behind a gigantic rock near an outcropping where he could easily jump to the rooftop. He must have seen the glint of Mordecai's scope, or maybe they'd just worked together so often, Roland knew instinctively where Mordecai would make his nest, but either way, he signalled to Mordecai that he was ready.

It went pretty well at first. Mordecai set his sights on the shielded bandit and squeezed the trigger. The gunshot rang out through the clear night, almost the same instant that the bandit's head exploded and spray of blood and skull. In the split second it took the psychos to recognise what was going on, Mordecai managed to take one of them out, too, as Roland ducked around the rock to spray the other psycho with his rifle. Already the bandits inside were pouring out the door in chaos, most of them heading straight for Roland. He threw out his turret and switched to his shotgun. “You're lucky I never travel without my baby,” Roland hissed in Mordecai's ear.

“Yeah, yeah, like having another soldier on the field,” Mordecai mocked. He ducked his head to the side to dodge the buzz axe that a psycho winged at him and fired a shot at the marauder getting uncomfortably close to Roland's turret, catching him in the shoulder and knocking his gun from his hand. Maybe he'd underestimated how many of them would be inside. “Grenade,” he called through his earbud, before launching it into the crowd, thinning the herd a little bit.

“You brought grenades to Tina's party?” Roland asked, sounding amused.

“You _didn't_?” Mordecai demanded. Shit, he thought that was requirement. Going to a house party on Artemis, you bring booze. Going to a party on Pandora, bring your weapons. Going to a party at Tiny Tina's, bring _all_ your explosives. He aimed his sights in Roland's direction and Roland's teeth, bared in a grin, were the only bright thing about him in the dark of the night. A midget had made his way around the turret and was bringing up his shotgun to fire. Mordecai's shot sent him flying off the side of the cliff.

“Nice,” Roland said in thanks.

Mordecai tipped his head back, 'dreads slapping against his back, and brought his fingers to his lips. He let out a sharp whistle and a moment later, Blood let out an answering cry. He didn't even see her until she'd already swept down and taken out a bandit. The three of them managed to handle the first wave pretty quickly, then Roland had to go and rush the door.

“Man,” Mordecai complained. “Why does your fool ass always have to be the hero?” He took a running leap at the roof and landed with a roll, drawing his sword as he stood. Bloodwing glided down to him and Mordecai extended his arm to catch her, cringing as she landed, claws digging in 'til she found her balance. He hadn't worn his gauntlet to the party. “Don't think it's a good idea for you to come inside with us, girl,” he told her. The enclosed space was too tight; it wasn't safe. Bloodwing nipped at his ear, pressing down with all her weight before taking flight again. Mordecai snatched a pistol off a nearby body in his free hand and charged in after Roland. 

They were stupidly outnumbered and outmatched, but thanks to their position at the top of the stairs and Roland positioning his turret at the landing, it was sort of embarrassingly easy to pick them off, like fish in a barrel. The sort of mindless slaughter that only Moxxi, and maybe Torgue, would appreciate. Mordecai had always preferred a little more of challenge. He grabbed the bannister and swung himself over the side, ignoring Roland's cry of, “What the hell are you _doing_?”

Mordecai landed with his feet in the chest of a Goliath, knocking him back across the scaffolding, then drove his sword through his chest. “Come on, don't try to tell me this isn't more fun than watching Lilith and Moxxi flirting with each other.”

“Actually,” Roland said with a grunt, and sent a bandit tumbling over the railing to the ground far below, “to be honest, I wouldn't mind seeing that.”

Mordecai ducked another goddamned buzz axe and brought up his pistol. Shit, he should have had more to drink at the party. It took a couple rounds, catching a marauder in his shoulder, then his knee, before getting the head shot. He took the pause in the onslaught to grab his hip flask for a long swig. Then he jumped off the edge of the scaffolding, stabbing his sword through the delicate aluminium of the old telescope to slow his descent. The contact with the ground still sent a jolt up his legs. 

Or maybe that was the thread of lightning sent out by the Nomad's helmet, skittering down Mordecai's sword and burning his palm. He dropped his blade with a hiss of pain, emptied his clip in the Nomad's face and ducked behind the base of the telescope. The whole place smelled like blood, gun powder, and his own burnt flesh. He pressed the crackling, oozing wound against the fabric of his sleeve and tore off a strip, tying it and pulling tight with his teeth.

Roland's turret landed with a thunk by Mordecai's feet, expanding and immediately firing bullets at the men charging towards him. Mordecai reloaded his gun as the turret kept the mob at bay. A moment later, Roland landed next to him, grimacing. “It can never be easy with you, can it?”

Mordecai shot him a dark look. The one thing about wearing his goggles and mask in the field was that he feared his expressions weren't nearly as impressive without view of his eyebrows. “You're the one who went charging in like an asshole.”

“You're the one who kept stealing all my kills from your hiding spot like a damn bitch,” Roland shot back, but he was grinning. 

Mordecai wasn't sure where Roland got off calling _him_ crazy. But it had been so long since they'd fought side by side. So long since Mordecai had fought with anyone else by his side. He spent most of his days raiding the trains, or picking off bandits from afar for the vault hunters, and mostly he just felt old and washed up and irrelevant. He hadn't felt this vital and alive since—fuck, since he didn't know. When Roland formed the Crimson Raiders? When Handsome Jack raided New Haven? It had been the beginning of the end when they'd found the first vault.

“Aww, don't be bitter that I'm a better shot than you,” Mordecai said, and drove his point home by dropping a couple more of the freaks rushing them.

“My ass,” Roland grumbled and managed to knock one of the buzz axes out of mid-air with one shot and dropped the psycho who'd thrown it with the second. “Nailed it!”

“ _Nailed it_ ,” Mordecai mocked. Roland nudged him in the shoulder and Mordecai nudged him back, harder, and then they were both laughing. Probably sounded as mad as the damn psychos as they mowed down the rest of the crowd.

“Alright,” Roland said, when the finished climbing the staircase to Mordecai's tower. “That might have been more fun than watching Moxxi and Lil' together.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mordecai said, tugging off his goggles, headscarf and shawl all at once and throwing them aside. “Can we just not think about either of them for longer than five minutes?” His holsters and scabbards he hung on the hooks by the door. Most of his outerwear ended up in a pile of other similarly bloodstained clothing in the corner. He petted Blood's head as he passed her next, and she made a soft, sleepy sound, barely raising her head before settling in again.

“Sorry,” Roland said. He didn't look all that repentant, still grinning broadly as he flopped down on Mordecai's old sagging and stained sofa. It groaned in protest and slammed back against the wall with the force of his weight. “No more talk of exes tonight.” He drew an X over his heart.

Mordecai washed out the wound on his hand and the one where a bullet had grazed his arm, then scrubbed the sand and dirt from his face and neck. He grabbed up a med kit from the locker next to the sink, poured them both a tall glass of his finest 'shine, and dropped down at Roland's side. Roland just watched while Mordecai drank all of his in one long swallow. “How do you even have a liver left?” he wondered out loud.

“New-U, man. They don't just make your outsides good as new,” Mordecai said. He yanked off his boots, kicked up his feet, and let out a long breath. His gaze fell upon the ceiling, imagining the clouds and stars and ships beyond as Roland began to spread Dr. Zed's salve on Mordecai's wound. “Or fuck, I don't know, maybe we're not really here at all. Maybe we're still up on the ships that brought us here in the first place, and these bodies have always been reconstructions.” 

Roland gave his own glass a speculative look. “What the hell is in this?” he asked. He didn't wait for an answer before throwing back a handful of Zed's Horse Pills and washing them down with the booze. “Or are you finally losing it?”

Mordecai shook off the darker thoughts that plagued him when he was alone up here on those abnormally long Pandora nights. “Just a thought. Hell, I prefer it to the idea that our physical bodies are long gone by now and we're just holograms with our brains uploaded to some computer somewhere.” It would mean none of those deaths were permanent, but it would also make everything that they'd done here completely meaningless.

“I think you need another drink,” Roland decided. He only stumbled a little on his way to retrieve it, splashed some onto Mordecai's hand as he poured. Mordecai licked at his fingers, enjoying the burning of it against his tongue. Roland was staring at him, something strange in his eyes. “You know, I never get used to seeing you without your goggles.”

“Yeah, well, I can't get used to you with your new pink beret,” Mordecai said. He ran his fingers through his beard, scratching the skin beneath. He needed a fucking shower, but the water 'round here was about as dependable as Bandit SMG in a fight against a Buzzard. Maybe he'd go back to Sanctuary with the rest of them for a few days and take advantage of the amenities of civilisation.

Roland caught his own reflection in the mirror over Mordecai's sink, turning his head this way and that. “I think it's growing on me. Maybe I'll change up the colours of the Raiders' uniforms. Pink and crimson are really just two points on the same scale. Maybe get myself a pink scarf, too.” He was doing his rambling thing again.

Mordecai rolled his head along the back of the couch to look at Roland, noticed he had made some decent headway on his drink. “I think _you_ need cut off, before I end up with another love bite.” What he didn't say was that Lilith was right. The shade brought out the slight red in Roland's cheeks.

Roland was silent for a long moment, that weird look still in his eyes. He swirled his drink around in his glass, then leaned over to sit it down on the old red chest Mordecai had re-purposed into a coffee table. Mordecai told himself he wasn't disappointed. That tight, empty feeling in his chest was there pretty much all the time, anyway. It had just been too long since he'd had another body in his bed. Mordecai let his head fall back again, closed his eyes, took another sip of his drink.

The touch of fingers against his bare neck almost made Mordecai jump out of his skin. Normally no one could get close enough without his knowing, but around his partners he'd gotten comfortable enough to let down his guard. Mordecai made himself take a deep breath, shuddered at how cold Roland's fingers were. “Guess I need to turn up the heat in here,” he said, going for light-hearted, but his voice came out kind of thready.

“You know,” Roland said in a conversational tone. The cushions of the sofa dipped as Roland shifted his weight closer. “I'm actually better at the lovey-dovey stuff when I'm only slightly shitfaced.”

Mordecai opened his eyes, cutting his glance sideways. In the low lamplight, Roland's face was alarmingly close, and all in shade, his eyes dark and hooded. There'd been a time when Mordecai could read every thought Roland, Lilith and Brick ever had by the lines in their faces, the twitch of a lip, or the slant of a brow. But that was before Shep had sold them out and Brick had gone off the deep end, before Lilith and Roland had embarked on their ill-advised high school romance. Right now he was at a loss. “Yeah?” he asked, hesitantly.

“Mmm,” Roland hummed, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. It made the hair at the back of Mordecai's neck stand on end. It was instinctive, the way Mordecai tipped his chin towards the ceiling when Roland leaned in, baring his neck for Roland's mouth. Maybe someone else might see it as submitting, but it just felt like an extension of their dance on the battlefield, always aware of each other's positions and movements, always complimenting one another. Roland wanted in, and Mordecai had to move to let him, and it just made sense.

Roland's teeth scraped down Mordecai's throat before closing hot and wet at the base of his neck. The gentle sucking with just an edge of pain from the press of teeth gave Mordecai the same hot sensation down his chest that he got from his favourite whiskey. It was a testament to hard up he was that his dick was already stirring at the contact. Moxxi had been a fun and inventive lover, but if there had been any sort of foreplay, it was Mordecai doing it for her. She liked to make her lovers work for it, which was fine by him, but there was something to be said for having someone else do the heavy lifting for once. Mordecai shifted lower on the couch, tilting his head more to the side, and Roland took the invitation. He tugged at Mordecai's shirt to bare more skin. It was so threadbare it tore down from the collar. 

“No big deal,” Mordecai murmured, and before the words were entirely past his lips, Roland was kissing him. His hand was big and warming to Mordecai's skin, fingers pushing through his hair and guiding him by the touch at the base of his skull. Mordecai let it happen for a moment, his mind blank. Roland's mouth was just made for kissing, those impossibly full, soft lips. Mordecai was mostly sure he wore chapstick or some shit, and he licked his way into Mordecai's mouth with the same easy confidence he showed in battle.

Then there was a moment's indecision, because this was nice, and they were both unattached, and why the hell not? But still, Roland was his friend... “How drunk are you, anyway?” Mordecai mumbled against Roland's mouth.

Roland bit Mordecai's jaw, then his earlobe. His other hand landed on Mordecai's chest, smoothed around his side, over his waist, down to his hip, tugging them closer. “I know better than you to drink anything Tina serves,” he said. “And your shit is good, but it isn't enough to get me wasted on half a glass.”

Mordecai shrugged; good enough for him. He leaned into Roland for another kiss, climbing onto his knees to get closer. There was really no telling what exactly was happening here. Whether Roland just wanted to make out, or if he had something more complicated in mind, Mordecai couldn't say, but he was a flexible dude. He could go with the flow. 

Roland hooked his thumb through Mordecai's belt loop and tugged, and Mordecai was a little annoyed at the manhandling, but more turned on. He swung a leg over Roland's lap, and the change in position, the extra height gave Mordecai the upper hand. His mouth slanted hungrily over Roland's, teeth digging sharply into that plush bottom lip until Roland groaned and opened up for him. All Mordecai could taste was the sweet aftertaste of his moonshine, warmed from Roland's mouth.

Where they were pressed together, Mordecai could feel Roland's interest and it made his stomach and dick jump. Roland's hands were rough over Mordecai's back, scrabbling for bare skin at the hem of his shirt. “How are you so fucking hot?” he asked, when his palm found Mordecai's spine, thumbing down the ridges.

Mordecai had to pull away enough to grin down at him, wiggling his brows. Roland rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he said. He shoved a hand down the back of Mordecai's pants, cupping one ass cheek. Mordecai couldn't help but roll his hips, first out of reflex and then again because it brought his dick flush against Roland's.

“It's okay,” Mordecai panted. “You don't have to be embarrassed. I am one fine looking specimen of man.”

Roland snorted, but he didn't deny it. He used his grip on Mordecai's ass to pull him down again, more firmly, grinding his hips in counterpoint. “Fuck,” Mordecai hissed, head tossed back. Roland followed him, nipping at the skin bared by the tear in his shirt. 

It had been longer than he could remember since Mordecai had screwed around with a man. Way before coming to Pandora, anyway. When the choice was between cannibals and inbred morons, one of your partners, or the scary hot chick with unlimited booze and condoms, the choice had seemed easy. So long that Mordecai had forgotten what it was like to feel the hard plane of muscles as opposed to the soft give of breasts. It was pretty exhilarating.

Mordecai wrapped an arm around Roland's neck, arching up against him and catching him in another hotter, sloppier kiss. He squirmed around until he got his other hand between them, tugging at the snap of Roland's pants. His heel pressed against the hardness there and he had to pause in his endeavour to grope Roland through the fabric. It was kind of awesome the way Roland whined at the touch, bucked his hips into it. Mordecai let a harsh breath out his nose, more turned on with every passing second. He didn't usually care about the whole power play thing some people had going on, but there was something intoxicating about the idea of Roland losing control because of Mordecai's touch.

Before he really had time to think it through, Mordecai's body had made the decision for him. He was slipping off Roland's lap, onto his knees on the floor, nudging Roland's legs apart. Roland made a bereft sound when their lips parted, and his eyes were slow to open. He blinked down at Mordecai, and at the sight, he bit his lip, watching as Mordecai unfastened his pants and pulled out his dick. “Fuck, yes,” Roland said. “Please, Mordy.”

That was Roland, always so fucking polite. How could Mordecai say no to that? He drew his hand up the length in appreciation. Roland had a seriously beautiful cock, fat and soft like his mouth, already red and leaking. Mordecai went down on him without hesitation, licking around the crown before sucking him in. Fuck, it was better than he remembered, the way Roland's dick stretched his jaw, burning as he settled into a rhythm. Sucking cock was just like riding a bicycle, apparently, if Roland's groans of appreciation were anything to go by. Each one went straight to Mordecai's dick. He managed to get his own pants open, stroking his fingers against the hard press of his own cock.

“You keep that up, I'm gonna go shamefully fast,” Roland managed.

“Mmm,” Mordecai hummed, liked the hot rush of pre-come on his tongue in answer. He drew back, letting his teeth just barely graze the silky skin on the underside of Roland's dick. “I don't know man, you sound a little too articulate to me, for a man getting his brains blown out.”

“Maybe I'd rather fuck 'em out,” Roland growled, voice making heat run up Mordecai's spine. There was something unsure about it, despite the words, like he didn't know how Mordecai would respond.

“Yeah?” Mordecai drawled, leaning back, wriggling to get his pants down around his knees. He finally wrapped his hand around his dick, stroking slowly. “Who's doing the fucking in this scenario?” He arched a sharp brow in challenge.

“We both know I could take you,” Roland said. They both knew that was entirely untrue, actually. Based on past evidence they were usually pretty evenly matched. But even though the mere thought had Mordecai close to the edge, he couldn't just let it go.

“Sounds like a challenge, Soldier.”

They moved at the same time, surging to their feet. Roland had the brute strength going for him, but Mordecai was light on his feet. He dodged Roland's first move to pin him, drove Roland face first into his unmade bed. He kicked off his pants as Roland rolled onto his back, then climbed up over him, grabbing Roland's arms and pushing him into the mattress with the force of his kiss. Roland tried to buck him off, which only distracted them both for a few long, breathless moments as their bare dicks slid together. Roland twisted his wrists against Mordecai's hold, did one of his fancy moves and was suddenly free from the grip. It only took him a split second to reverse their position.

Mordecai had to wonder, with their history, how none of their previous matches had ended like this. He managed to say as much out loud, between panted breaths and grunts of mingled pleasure and pain. “I don't fuck around with someone else's boyfriend. Especially not when the someone else in question is bloodthirsty, runs The Underdome, and has a lot of eager psychopaths at her beck and call.” Which meant he'd thought about it.

“Fair enough,” Mordecai said, though he secretly thought Lilith was a lot more terrifying than Moxxi ever could be. He twisted under Roland's solid weight, but Roland had him well and truly pinned. Mordecai's strength was his willowy build and flexibility, and Roland had managed to distribute his weight just right so Mordecai couldn't get the upper hand at the moment. In a different situation, he might have head butted Roland, or kneed him in the groin, but those moves seemed a little counterproductive at this particular endeavour.

“Gonna cry uncle?” Roland teased.

“Roland, baby,” Mordecai cooed, “one of us is gonna be crying by the end of the night, and it ain't gonna be me. You've never had it so good.”

Roland made a rough noise of agreement and slowly released Mordecai's wrists, lifted some of his weight. Mordecai considered taking advantage of the move, but he'd rather fuck than keep fighting, and he could win in more ways than one. He pushed Roland back, watched while Roland got to his feet, stripping off his sweater, bending to unlace and tug off his boots and pants. 

Mordecai reached for the open ammo crate at his bedside, digging around until he found what he was looking for. He threw the lube at Roland who fumbled but caught it with one hand against his chest. Mordecai leaned back to the wall and let his legs drop open, lips and brow quirked. “Know what you're doing?” he asked.

Roland just stared at him for a minute, as he opened the cap and poured a generous amount into his hand. “You should never wear those stupid goggles,” he finally said, which made Mordecai chuckle. Roland tossed the lube to the sheets by Mordecai's hips, and he followed, climbing between his legs. He didn't go slow, but he knew what he was doing—Mordecai shouldn't have been surprised. Lilith struck him as the adventurous type, and even if they hadn't ever done this, Roland _had_ been in the Lance. Roland pushed two fingers in with no hesitation, going straight for the prostate. Mordecai had to bite his lip against the stinging pleasure-pain, to keep from crying out. He shifted his hips to ease the burn as Roland stretched him open. Jesus fuck, the man had nice hands.

There was a soft chuckle, and it wasn't until Mordecai blinked his eyes open that he realised he'd even closed them in the first place. “Smug doesn't look good on you, asshole,” he grumbled.

“Yes it does,” Roland said, eyes crinkling with his grin. “Though I don't tend to wear it as often as you.”

“I usually got a reason.”

Roland added a third finger and twisted them deep. “You sayin' I don't?”

“I'm _saying_ ,” Mordecai said, over-enunciating each word like he did when he was sobering up, “you haven't earned it yet.”

“Huh,” Roland said. He sat back, pulled his fingers free, leaving Mordecai feeling open and aching. He grabbed Mordecai's ankles and pulled him out flat. Mordecai's muscles tensed, but he fought the urge to strike out. He rolled onto his stomach, dreads slithering over his shoulders as he climbed into his hands and knees.

There was a long moment where he could hear Roland flipping the cap on the lube, shifting closer on the sheets. The anticipation was making Mordecai's skin crawl. Then Roland's hand was on his hip, sliding under Mordecai's shirt to palm his belly, holding him firmly as he began to split Mordecai open with his dick. 

“Oh, shit,” Mordecai muttered, head falling forward onto his clasped hands. 

Roland snapped his hips, driving all the way home, shocking the breath out of them both. The pace he set made it clear Roland was just as desperate as Mordecai was, laying over Mordecai's back, fingers curled roughly into his skin as he fucked him with enough force to move them across the sheets. Mordecai had to scramble to get a hand against the wall to keep from getting his head knocked against it. He'd really meant to take the initiative, to show Roland the best fucking time of his life, but that was going to have to wait, because right now all he could do was hang on, laying a hand over Roland's, lacing their fingers together, pressed tight to his stomach. 

Mordecai's dick was bobbing in the air with each thrust, desperate for some touch. He pushed their joined hands lower and Roland got the hint. He sat back abruptly, settling on his heels, and pulled Mordecai back by his hips, onto his lap. Mordecai reached back to guide Roland back in, sinking down his length. It was uncomfortable at first, the new position too deep, until Mordecai raised himself up and leaned forward, found the right angle. Then it was easy to fall back into that same, frantic pace, their movements tighter and more restricted. Roland leaned into him and reached around, his lube coated hand gripped Mordecai's dick.

“'Bout time,” Mordecai muttered. Roland squeezed his fist in response, jerked harder. They weren't going to be able to hold this position very long. Mordecai's thighs were already burning from working himself on Roland's cock.

A distant explosion rocked through the night, and the sky filled with a dizzying fireworks display, visible through the wall of windows along the northern wall. One of the party-goers, no doubt, celebrating with a sky rocket. It was sort of surreal, to think of all their friends still down there, no idea what was going on, and it didn't make a lot of sense, but just thinking about the expression on Moxxi or Lilith faces if they walked in on this was enough to send him over the edge, spurting all over Roland's hand, the sheets, the wall. _Man_ , he thought, panting as Roland continued to pump his hips, his grunts coming faster, _I am all sorts of fucked up_. 

“So fucking tight,” Roland breathed, his teeth set against the curve of Mordecai's spine. “Shit, can I, oh fuck, can I come on you?”

Mordecai let Roland move him, his own body limp from spent pleasure, every thrust sending aftershocks of almost too much though his nerves. “On me, in me, I don't fucking care.” Mordecai's orgasm had left him feeling generous.

“Fuck,” Roland said. Mordecai couldn't say if it was his words or the way he clenched his inner muscles, but Roland was shaking apart, buried deep inside as his dick jerked. Then he was pulling back, pushing Mordecai flat on his stomach and shoving his shirt up to bare the skin of his back. Mordecai looked over his shoulder to watch as Roland stroked out those last few hot strips across Mordecai's back and ass. He nudged his softening dick between Mordecai's cheeks, smearing it all around. Mordecai's stomach shook with laughter and he nudged Roland back with his elbow to get enough room to roll over. Roland just stared at him, catching his breath, eyes darting over Mordecai's face before a smile cracked his face, and then he was laughing too, dropping down half on top of Mordecai.

“God,” Mordecai said, “you're fucking heavy.”

Roland pressed his face into Mordecai's neck and said, voice muffled, “You're so _hot_. Seriously, _how_?”

Mordecai huffed, half in annoyance, half in fond amusement, and tugged a blanket over them both. “We run hot on Artemis, unlike you cold-blooded Prometheans.” Roland didn't respond with his normal ire at Mordecai's slight towards his home planet. Instead he was settling in, body going limp all over. “You're one of those assholes who passes out once you come, aren't you?”

Roland lifted his head long enough to shoot Mordecai a glare before dropping back down. “ _Everyone_ passes out after they come,” he said. “You're fucking hot when it's goddamn freezing in here. You're more coherent when you're drunk. You don't want to sleep after you fuck. You can't do anything normal, can you?”

“Normal's overrated,” Mordecai grumbled. “Boring.” Roland hummed his agreement. He brought an arm over Mordecai's chest, thumb stroking over the curve of his rib. “What happens when Krampus shows up and your ass is passed out?”

“I don't see how his Mistletoe could do much worse than we've already done,” Roland said, voice going soft and slow with sleep. “At least there will be no babies.”

Mordecai laughed, maybe with a slightly maniacal edge, but that wasn't all that unusual for him. He sort of loved the man. “Fine, fine,” Mordecai said. He tried to wriggle free from Roland's Destroyer-esque grip. “Sleep, you lazy ass. I'll keep an eye out.”

Roland tightened his grip and threw a leg over both of Mordecai's. “The others can handle it,” he mumbled. “I say let Krampus try to start some shit with that group. Bring him on, bitch.” He punctuated his word with a slap against Mordecai's hip. When Roland was ready for round number two, he'd be paying for that. And a number of other things. The thought brought a grin to his face. 

So what if Pandora's years were 10 of Earth's, and even back on Earth it would be, like September right now? So what if Tina was just using the Christmas thing as an excuse to get everyone together? So what if it had turned into some sort of orgy down there after they'd left and Moxxi was screwing everyone? In any case, those new vault hunters deserved a good lay. It was hard to be jealous of anyone when his ass was throbbing pleasantly, and there was the promise of more to come. 

Mordecai was all of the sudden plenty full of holiday cheer.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this is what you wanted, dearest recipient. It certainly isn't a pairing I'd ever thought of before, but it was a heck of a lot of fun to write.


End file.
